My Mother Confused Me: Part 1

I remember the a time when my parents were happy. I remember the "hmms" of approval over their morning coffee. I remember Doonesbury seeming oddly optimistic, even in while playfully ribbing the Nation's current state and the latest presidential address. Ladies and gentlemen: I remember the Clinton administration.

And yes, I remember the scandal. Oh sweet delicious, sizzling, scandal. What good American doesn't love a delightfully, tasty, full-of-gory-details scandal, right?

Now, I was young when the shit really hit the fan for President Clinton. Not quite a teenager, but there was no pulling punches in my household when it came to talking about sex. I don't actually remember a time when I didn't know what sex was or where babies came from because whether or not my sister and I wanted to know, my mom was a little too happy to tell us all about... well... most everything.

Seriously. In the nineties? You don't get much cooler than tenor sax and Ray Bans.

The Clinton scandal was particularly memorable for me because of my parents reactions. They loved Bill. There wasn't much not to love, as Monica Lewinsky demonstrated for the Nation. Sweet saxophone playing, foreign relations-whiz, charismatic speaker, solid hand gesture-er, general super-cool-guy-president that he was. My mother often scoffed and rolled her eyes at the news reports on the matter (a rarity, because I also remember when my mother loved watching CNN with Peter Jennings, may he rest in peace). One day not too long after the scandal broke my mother looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Honey, listen to me and remember this," she said with a tone of hearty importance with her hands on my shoulders, "It is nobodies business who anyone sleeps with. I don't care if it's your neighbor or the President of the United States of America. It's nobodies business except for the two people sleeping together. But this:" She gestured to the newspaper on the breakfast table, "Is none of our business."

I took a great deal of comfort in that fact, and I have no idea why. It wouldn't even become applicable to me for well over another seven years, and even then I pretty much wanted everyone to know I was gettin' some. I think the general principle behind the sentiment was something I related to on a core level though. Man, woman, transgender, cheater, faithful, chronic masturbater, it simply has no effect on the work that person does in a professional setting, and honestly has very little to do with what they do in a social setting. It's private. People's sex lives are nobodies business*.


But you all probably know that that's not true.

"Young lady, people be gettin' busy and it's no one's business."

Now as it turns out there were a bunch of crazy undertones to this well-developed manta of my mother's (her second favorite I heard often as a child was, "No one knows what happens behind closed doors." Are we seeing a theme here...?). Had I had my wits about me I probably would have started putting things together as she stuck by these phrases nearly religiously. But come on, I was eleven, get off my back. The bottom line, ladies and gentlemen, is this:

It is every one's business with whom everyone is sleeping.

Yeah. I made that shit poetical. You're welcome.

Here's the thing: Should it be no one's business? Yeah, I think so. Maybe? Probably. I have no idea honestly. But the stupid truth is everyone wants to know. And while I personally am not one to nose around these situations, I'm certainly not going to stop someone from telling me all about whose sleeping with whom (I'm also not quick to believe it or give any of the shits about it...). I'm about 9 months into being single for the first time in my adult life and realizing that I'm actually an extremely private person. Don't misunderstand me here, because I'm a far cry from shy, just very private about my own god dammed life because it's mine and it's full of my awesome choices and I choose to be a little particular regarding what I share with whom. This extends to everything I do, my family issues, my financial issues, my plans for the future, my personal quarrels with people. I'm rarely the first to jump up for show n' tell.

All the photos regarding whispering in the search I did featured women. I find that slightly insulting and largely inaccurate. Okay, somewhat inaccurate.

Regardless of what things should be and what's "right" in any given situation I've found it to never be that simple. Or easy. Or fun. It's just a giant mess, because that's kind of what being a human being is. A giant (wonderful) mess. We're all just slightly different and play by a slightly different rule book and we all have different boundaries about which we're constantly educating each other.

So, should it be any one's business with whom you're sleeping? I doubt it, but I'm sure we'd all like to know.

*Unless of course someone is getting hurt or anything is happening against any one's will. Obviously. Or you're a sex addict. I guess that's a thing.